Interest in artificial intelligence training is soaring, but only a fraction of the demand is being met by higher education, according to a new report.
Nearly 57 million people in the U.S. are interested in learning AI-based skills—with about 8.7 million currently learning, the higher education marketing and research firm Validated Insights estimates.
Two-thirds of them are doing so independently through videos, online reading and other learning resources, and a third are doing so via a structured and supervised learning program. However, just 7,000 (0.2 percent) are learning AI via a credit-bearing program from a higher education institution.
This is despite enrollment in AI courses growing quickly in recent years. According to the report, the first bachelor’s degree in the subject was launched by Carnegie Mellon University in 2018.
Over the next five years, enrollment in AI programs at colleges and universities grew 45 percent annually. The report found that approximately 1 percent of institutions now offer a master’s degree in AI, 2.5 percent a bachelor’s degree and 3 to 5 percent offer a nondegree program.
SUNY’s University at Buffalo saw enrollment in its master’s degree in AI grow over 20 times from 2020 to 2024, from five to 103 students.
“Based on the data, there was sizable existing interest and demand for professional and workplace education and training in AI and AI-related areas, but we probably haven’t seen anything yet,” said Brady Colby, head of market research at Validated Insights.
“According to survey data and hiring trends, this market, the AI education and training market, is positioned for incredible, maybe explosive, growth.”
Validated Insights said ed-tech companies have seized the opportunity and are serving more than 99 percent of those looking to upskill in AI. Just 14 months after the launch of ChatGPT, enrollment in generative AI courses on platforms like Coursera and Udemy had grown to 3.5 million.
“It’s not necessarily a warning for colleges and universities as it may be a blast of opportunity. If for-credit, degree-granting institutions can sync their programs and reach this massive pool of interested students, the rewards could be excessive—for the students and schools alike.”
Estimates published by Statista suggest that the aggregate market for AI in the U.S. in 2025 is worth $74 billion.
The $221 million settlement with the Trump administration by Columbia University (and a similar $50 million deal by Brown University) represent a terrible capitulation by these campus leaders. AAUP president Todd Wolfson called the settlement “a disaster for Columbia students, faculty, and staff, as well as for academic freedom, freedom of speech, and the independence of colleges and universities nationwide. Never in the history of our nation has an educational institution so thoroughly bent to the will of an autocrat.”
Columbia and Brown had slam-dunk legal cases against the Trump administration, which clearly violated the processes required under Title VI when they suspended funding. (Brown was never notified of any reasons for the funding to be cut off, and there wasn’t even the pretense of a finding of antisemitic discrimination.) By making a settlement, universities give up their legal rights to challenge this repression, agree to impose massive censorship and pay a huge sum for the privilege of sacrificing their values.
It’s possible that the leaders of Columbia and Brown made this agreement because they concluded that Trump is a pathological liar, a petty dictator, a petulant lawbreaker intent on taking revenge against any perceived enemy and a president who will simply ignore any adverse judicial rulings. That analysis is accurate. But if you think Trump will ignore the law and violate any rules, then trusting his regime to obey a legal settlement is just as crazy.
The settlements include a bizarre amount of federal micromanagement of private universities, requiring Brown to provide single-sex floors in student housing, ban admissions decisions using personal statements that mention race and conduct a survey about antisemitism by the end of the year and take “appropriate action” in response. Even the smallest violation of the numerous requirements could be used to justify a future cutoff in federal funds.
The same officials who made ludicrous accusations of antisemitic discrimination to punish these universities will get to decide if the colleges are violating the agreement and deserve to be punished. While the agreements settle the old baseless charges, nothing prevents new baseless charges from being filed and leading to the same illegal funding cuts. Colleges that settle with the Trump administration have no guarantee of safety from further retaliation, and Trump officials will actually use these settlements to demand a tighter reign of censorship.
The New York Timesreported about those praising the Columbia agreement, “Many have focused on a provision that said no part of the settlement ‘shall be construed as giving the United States authority to dictate faculty hiring, university hiring, admissions decisions or the content of academic speech.’” Far from being a positive protection for intellectual liberty, this language is actually a terrible threat to free expression on campus.
By only protecting academic speech, this provision leaves the door wide open for government-imposed repression. Most expression on college campuses is not academic speech. The extramural utterances of faculty, along with virtually all student speech, is not academic speech and therefore is open to any suppression by the government under this agreement. But protecting extramural utterances is an essential part of academic freedom and has been a fundamental aspect of its definition since the AAUP’s 1915 Declaration of Principles.
While the provision says that the government can’t “dictate faculty hiring,” there’s nothing about dictating faculty firings. By solely protecting hiring decisions, Columbia leaves the door wide-open for purging faculty, staff and students who are deemed undesirable by the Trump administration.
In an email to the campus, Brown president Christina H. Paxson wrote that the first key aspect of the settlement was that “no provision of this Agreement, individually or taken together, shall be construed as giving the United States authority to dictate Brown’s curriculum or the content of academic speech.” (Brown apparently didn’t bother to follow Columbia and get a ban on federal control over its hiring decisions, which is an alarming omission.)
Some people might think that paying $221 million to get $400 million in research grants is a good bargain. Federal grants aren’t free money for colleges. All of the funding goes to research expenses. Now that the Trump administration has arbitrarily lowered the indirect cost rate to 15 percent, government-sponsored research is much less profitable for colleges—and possibly an expense they must subsidize. Certainly, Columbia will be losing money by paying $221 million to get access to $400 million in grants.
Paramount bribed Donald Trump a mere $16 million (and purged a few critics) in order to get approved an $8 billion merger that can’t be undone. As terrible as Paramount’s submission to Trump was, Columbia purged far more students and spent 13 times as much to get a deal worth 1/20th the value that increases ongoing federal control over Columbia. Paramount and Columbia executives may share a moral gutter, but at least Paramount’s bribe made financial sense.
Worse yet, by making a settlement, Columbia loses that $221 million forever, with no opportunity to prevail in court and receive the full funding their researchers are entitled to. By agreeing to obey the government, Columbia hurts its legal options to challenge future funding cutoffs, because the government can claim that Columbia failed to live up to the terms of the settlement. If the courts rule against the Trump administration’s illegal actions, Columbia and Brown will still be forced to pay these millions, impose repressive censorship and face retaliation without legal recourse.
The Columbia capitulation sets a precedent for Harvard to pay an even bigger settlement, estimated at up to $500 million. Unfortunately, hapless apologists for repression such as former Harvard president Larry Summers are urging Harvard to follow Columbia’s model, and Summers praised the Columbia capitulation as “the best day higher education has had in the last year.” Summers claimed, “The prestige of the university is not to be arrogated by faculty members in support of any set of political convictions, particularly those in leadership positions of academic units.”
Let me translate this: Professors should not be allowed to express political views. For believers in censorship such as Summers, the desire to suppress academic freedom finds a convenient partner in the Trump administration.
Universities are making these deals with the Trump regime not in spite of the requirements for censorship, but because of those restrictions. The provisions in these settlements enhance administrative power to suppress dissent, and that’s precisely what makes them so appealing to some campus administrators.
Columbia and other colleges are trapped in a no-win situation, but even difficult moral dilemmas have wrong answers, and that’s what Columbia’s leadership has chosen. Let’s hope Harvard is not the next lemming to throw itself over the cliff and sacrifice its core values, its donor money and its common sense in the vain hope that fawning obedience and bribery can satisfy the vengeance of a mad leader.
Recent disruptions to student visa processing could trigger a 30-40% decline in new international student enrollment this fall, potentially costing the U.S. economy $7 billion and more than 60,000 jobs, according to a new analysis by NAFSA: Association of International Educators and JB International.
The preliminary projections, based on SEVIS and State Department data, paint a stark picture for higher education institutions that have come to rely heavily on international students for both revenue and academic diversity. The analysis predicts an overall 15% drop in international enrollment for the 2025-26 academic year, which would reverse years of steady growth in this critical sector.
“This analysis, the first to calculate the potential economic impact of fewer international students on cities and towns across the country, should serve as a clarion call to the State Department that it must act,” said Dr. Fanta Aw, executive director and CEO of NAFSA. “The immediate economic losses projected here are just the tip of the iceberg.”
The projected decline stems from a confluence of policy changes and administrative challenges that have created significant barriers for prospective international students:
Visa Interview Suspension: Between May 27 and June 18, 2025, student visa interviews were paused during the peak issuance season—precisely when students needed to secure visas for fall enrollment. When interviews resumed on June 18, consulates received a directive to implement new social media vetting protocols within five days, but with minimal guidance.
Appointment Bottlenecks: Reports indicate limited or no visa appointment availability in key countries including India, China, Nigeria, and Japan. India and China alone represent the top two sources of international students to the United States, while Nigeria ranks seventh and Japan 13th among sending countries.
Declining Visa Issuance: F-1 student visa issuance dropped 12% from January to April 2025 and plummeted 22% in May 2025 compared to the same period in 2024. While June 2025 data has not been published, the analysis suggests a possible 80-90% decrease based on the identified disruptions.
Travel Restrictions: A June 4, 2025 executive order imposed restrictions on nationals from 19 countries, with reports suggesting another 36 countries could be added. These restrictions alone threaten $3 billion in annual economic contributions and more than 25,000 American jobs.
The economic implications extend far beyond university campuses. International students contributed $46.1 billion to the U.S. economy in 2024-25 and supported nearly 400,000 jobs across various sectors including housing, dining, retail, and transportation.
The projected 15% enrollment decline would reduce international student economic contributions to $39.2 billion in 2025-26, down from an expected $46.1 billion. This represents not just a loss to individual institutions, but to entire communities that have built economic ecosystems around international education.
“Without significant recovery in visa issuance in July and August, up to 150,000 fewer students may arrive this fall,” the report warns, highlighting the narrow window remaining for policy corrections.
Beyond immediate economic impacts, education leaders worry about long-term consequences for American higher education’s global competitiveness. International students contribute to research innovation, provide diverse perspectives in classrooms, and often remain in the United States after graduation, filling critical roles in STEM fields and other high-demand sectors.
The timing is particularly concerning given increased competition from other English-speaking countries like Canada, Australia, and the United Kingdom, which have positioned themselves as more welcoming alternatives for international students.
To mitigate what NAFSA calls a “devastating outcome,” the organization is urging Congress to direct the State Department to take two immediate actions:
Provide expedited visa appointments and processing for all F-1 and M-1 students and J-1 exchange visitor visa applicants
Exempt F and M students as well as J exchange visitors from current travel restrictions affecting nationals from 19 countries, while maintaining required background checks and vetting
The report argues that these policy changes could help institutions avoid the projected enrollment cliff and preserve the economic benefits that international students bring to American communities.
For institutions planning fall enrollment, the report suggests the need for contingency planning and advocacy efforts to address visa processing challenges. With the traditional summer months representing the final opportunity for students to secure visas for fall enrollment, time is running short for policy interventions.
One of the significant themes in higher education over the last couple of decades has been employability – preparing students for the world of work into which they will be released on graduation.
And one of the key contemporary issues for the sector is the attempt to come to grips with the changes to education in an AI-(dis)empowered world.
The next focus, I would argue, will involve a combination of the two – are universities (and regulators) ready to prepare students for the AI-equipped work where they will be working?
The robotics of law
Large, international law firms have been using AI alongside humans for some time, and there are examples of its use for the drafting of non-disclosure agreements and contracts, for example.
In April 2025, the Solicitors Regulation Authority authorised Garfield Law, a small firm specialising in small-claims debt recovery. This was remarkable only in that Garfield Law is the first law firm in the world to deliver services entirely through artificial intelligence.
Though small and specialised, the approval of Garfield Law was a significant milestone – and a moment of reckoning – for both the legal professional and legal education. If a law firm can be a law firm without humans, what is the future for legal education?
Indeed, I would argue that the HE sector as a whole is largely unprepared for a near-future in which the efficient application of professional knowledge is no longer the sole purview of humans.
Professional subjects such as law, medicine, engineering and accountancy have tended to think of themselves as relatively “technology-proof” – where technology was broadly regarded as useful, rather than a usurper. Master of the Rolls Richard Vos said in March that AI tools
may be scary for lawyers, but they will not actually replace them, in my view at least… Persuading people to accept legal advice is a peculiarly human activity.
The success or otherwise of Garfield Law will show how the public react, and whether Vos is correct. This vision of these subjects as high-skill, human-centric domains needing empathy, judgement, ethics and reasoning is not the bastion it once was.
In the same speech, Vos also said that, in terms of using AI in dispute resolution, “I remember, even a year ago, I was frightened even to suggest such things, but now they are commonplace ideas”. Such is the pace at which AI is developing.
Generative AI tools can, and are, being used in contract drafting, judgement summaries, case law identification, medical scanning, operations, market analysis, and a raft of other activities. Garfield Law represents a world view where routine, and once billable, tasks performed by trainees and paralegals will most likely be automated. AI is challenging the traditional boundaries of what it means to be a professional and, in concert with this, challenging conceptions of what it is to teach, assess and accredit future professionals.
Feeling absorbed
Across the HE sector, the first reaction to the emergence of generative AI was largely (and predictably) defensive. Dire warnings to students (and colleagues) about “cheating” and using generative AI inappropriately were followed by hastily-constructed policies and guidelines, and the unironic and ineffective deployment of AI-powered AI detectors.
The hole in the dyke duly plugged, the sector then set about wondering what to do next about this new threat. “Assessments” came the cry, “we must make them AI-proof. Back to the exam hall!”
Notwithstanding my personal pedagogic aversion to closed-book, memory-recall examinations, such a move was only ever going to be a stopgap. There is a deeper pedagogic issue in learning and teaching: we focus on students’ absorption, recall and application of information – which, to be frank, is instantly available via AI. Admittedly, it has been instantly available since the arrival of the Internet, but we’ve largely been pretending it hasn’t for three decades.
A significant amount of traditional legal education focuses on black-letter law, case law, analysis and doctrinal reasoning. There are AI tools which can already do this and provide “reasonably accurate legal advice” (Vos again), so the question arises as to what is our end goal in preparing students? The answer, surely, is skills – critical judgement, contextual understanding, creative problem solving and ethical reasoning – areas where (for the moment, at least) AI still struggles.
Fit for purpose
And yet, and yet. In professional courses like law, we still very often design courses around subject knowledge, and often try to “embed” the skills elements afterwards. We too often resort to tried and tested assessments which reward memory (closed-book exams), formulaic answers (problem questions) and performance under time pressure (time constrained assessments). These are the very areas in which AI performs well, and increasingly is able to match, or out-perform humans.
At the heart of educating students to enter professional jobs there is an inherent conflict. On the one hand, we are preparing students for careers which either do not yet exist, or may be fundamentally changed – or displaced – by AI. On the other, the regulatory bodies are often still locked into twentieth century assumptions about demonstrating competence.
Take the Solicitors Qualifying Examination (SQE), for example. Relatively recently introduced, the SQE was intended to bring consistency and accessibility into the legal profession. The assessment is nonetheless still based on multiple choice questions and unseen problem questions – areas where AI can outperform many students. There are already tools out there to help SQE student practice (Chat SQE, Kinnu Law), though no AI tool has yet completed the SQE itself. But in the USA, the American Uniform Bar Exam was passed by GPT4 in 2023, outperforming some human candidates.
If a chatbot can ace your professional qualifying exam, is that exam fit for purpose? In other disciplines, the same question arises. Should medical students be assessed on their recall of rare diseases? Should business students be tested on their SWOT analyses? Should accounting students analyse corporate accounts? Should engineers calculate stress tolerances manually? All of these things can be completed by AI.
Moonshots
Regulatory bodies, universities and employers need to come together more than ever to seriously engage with what AI competency might look like – both in the workplace and the lecture theatre. Taking the approach of some regulators and insisting on in-person exams to prepare students for an industry entirely lacking in exams probably is not it. What does it mean to be an ethical, educated and adaptable professional in the age of AI?
The HE sector urgently needs to move beyond discussions about whether or not students should be allowed to use AI. It is here, it is getting more powerful, and it is never leaving. Instead, we need to focus on how we assess in a world where AI is always on tap. If we cannot tell the difference between AI-generated work and student-generated work (and increasingly we cannot) then we need to shift our focus towards the process of learning rather than the outputs. Many institutions have made strides in this direction, using reflective journals, project-based learning and assessments which reward students for their ability to question, think, explain and justify their answers.
This is likely to mean increased emphasis on live assessments – advocacy, negotiations, client interviews or real-world clinical experience. In other disciplines too, simulations, inter- and multi-disciplinary challenges, or industry-related authentic assessments. These are nothing revolutionary, they are pedagogically sound and all have been successfully implemented. They do, however, demand more of us as academics. More time, more support, more creativity. Scaling up from smaller modules to large cohorts is not an easy feat. It is much easier to keep doubling-down on what we already do, and hiding behind regulatory frameworks. However, we need to do these things (to quote JFK)
not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone.
In law schools, how many of us teach students how to use legal technology, how to understand algorithmic biases, or how to critically assess AI-generated legal advice? How many business schools teach students how to work alongside AI? How many medical schools give students the opportunity to learn how to critically interpret AI-generated diagnostics? The concept of “digital professionalism” – the ability to effectively and ethically use AI in a professional setting – is becoming a core graduate-level skill.
If universities fail to take the lead on this, then private providers will be eager, and quick, to fill the void. We already have short courses, boot camps, and employer-led schemes which offer industry-tailored AI literacy programmes – and if universities start to look outdated and slow to adapt, students will vote with their feet.
Invention and reinvention
However, AI is not necessarily the enemy. Like all technological advances it is essentially nothing more than a tool. As with all tools – the stone axe, the printing press, the internet – it brings with it threats to some and opportunities for others. We have identified some of the threats but also the opportunities that (with proper use), AI can bring – enhanced learning, deeper engagement, and democratisation of access to knowledge. Like the printing press, the real threat faced by HE is not the tool, but a failure to adapt to it. Nonetheless, a surprising number of academics are dusting off their metaphorical sabots to try and stop the development of AI.
We should be working with the relevant sector and regulator and asking ourselves how we can adapt our courses and use AI to support, rather than substitute, genuine learning. We have an opportunity to teach students how to move away from being consumers of AI outputs, and how to become critical users, questioners and collaborators. We need to stop being reactive to AI – after all, it is developing faster than we can ever do.
Instead, we need to move towards reinvention. This could mean: embedding AI literacy in all disciplines; refocusing assessments to require more creative, empathetic, adaptable and ethical skills; preparing students and staff to work alongside AI, not to fear it; and closer collaboration with professional regulators.
AI is being used in many professions, and the use will inevitably grow significantly over the next few years. Educators, regulators and employers need to work even more closely together to prepare students for this new world. Garfield Law is (currently) a one-off, and while it might be tempting to dismiss the development as tokenistic gimmickry, it is more than that.
Professional courses are standing on the top of a diving board. We can choose obsolescence and climb back down, clinging to outdated practices and condemn ourselves to irrelevance. Or, we can choose opportunity and dive in to a more dynamic, responsive and human vision of professional learning.
We just have to be brave enough to take the plunge.
This HEPI guest blog was kindly authored by Mary Curnock Cook CBE, who chairs the Dyson Institute and is a Trustee at HEPI, and Bess Brennan, Chief of University Partnerships with Cadmus, which is running a series of collaborative events with UK university leaders about the challenges and opportunities of generative AI in higher education.
Are universities super tankers, drifting slowly through the ocean while students are speedboats, zipping around them? That was one of the most arresting images from the recent Kings x Cadmus Teaching and Learning Forum and captured a central theme running through the Forum: the mismatch between the pace of technological and social change facing universities and the slow speed of institutional adaptation when it comes to AI.
Yet the forum also highlighted a fundamental change in how higher education institutions are approaching AI in assessment – moving from a reactive, punitive stance to one of proactive partnership, a shift from AI prohibition to integration. As speaker after speaker acknowledged, the sector’s initial approach of trying to detect and prevent AI use has been shown to be both futile and counterproductive. As one speaker noted, ‘we cannot stop students using AI. We cannot detect it. So we have to redefine assessment.’
From left to right: Mary Curnock Cook, Professor Andrew Turner, Professor Parama Chaudhury, Professor Timothy Thompson. Source: Cadmus
This reality has forced some institutions to completely reconceptualise their relationship with AI technology in order to work with the tide rather than against it. Where AI was viewed as a threat to academic integrity, educators are beginning to see it as an inevitable part of the learning landscape that calls for thoughtful integration, not least so that students are equipped for change and the AI-driven workplace. For example, Coventry University has responded by moving its assessment entirely to a coursework-based approach, except where there are Professional, Statutory and Regulatory Body (PSRB) requirements, and explicitly allows the use of AI, in most cases, to assist.
Imperial College’s approach exemplifies this new thinking with its principle of using AI “to think with you and not for you.” This approach recognises AI as a thinking partner rather than a replacement for human cognition, fundamentally changing how universities structure learning experiences. The shift requires moving from output-focused assessment to process-based evaluation, where students must demonstrate their thinking journey alongside their final products.
Like many universities, Imperial is also concerned about equity of access to AI. As a baseline it offers enterprise access to a foundational LLM with firewalled data, Copilot, which ringfences the data within the institution. But it also has a multi-LLM portal pilot, which includes ChatGPT, Claude, Copilot, Gemini and DeepSeek, acting as an AI sandpit to help instil a culture of thinking of the LLMs as different tools to be experimented with – users can switch between them and ask them the same question to see the variation in results. Meanwhile, LSE has partnered with Anthropic to offer all students free access to Anthropic’s Claude for Education, which helps students by guiding their reasoning process, rather than simply providing answers.
Practical implementation challenges
This transition to integration requires practical frameworks that many institutions are still developing. A speaker voiced the sector’s uncertainty as: ‘We do not know the next development – we didn’t see this one coming.’ This unpredictability leads to what was termed ‘seeking safety in policy’ – a tendency to over-regulate when the real need is for adaptive frameworks.
The challenge of moving beyond traffic light systems (red/amber/green classifications for AI use) emerged repeatedly. These systems, while intuitive, often leave educators and students in the ambiguous amber zone without clear guidance: ‘everyone falls in the middle. You cannot do the red stuff but how do you enforce that? What do we really mean by the green stuff?’ Instead, some institutions are moving towards assessment-specific guidance that explicitly states when and how AI can be used for each task.
Cultural and systemic transformation
This technological shift demands profound cultural change within institutions. As one participant observed, ‘Culture change is being driven by students. Academics may not want to change but they no longer have a choice if they’re getting assessments written by AI – or they don’t know if the assessments are written by AI’. The pace of student adoption is outstripping institutional adaptation, creating tension between established academic practices and emerging student behaviours – those speedboats and super tankers again.
However, while the magnitude of the challenge calls for institutional-scale change and moving beyond individual innovations to systemic transformation, super tankers don’t turn quickly.
Strategic approaches to change at scale
Several institutions shared their successful strategies for managing large-scale change. The key appears to be starting with early adopters and building momentum through demonstrated success. As Cadmus founder Herk Kailis noted, change champions are: ‘the best people who are keeping the sector evolving and growing – and we need to get behind them as there aren’t that many of them.’ Imperial’s approach of appointing ‘AI futurists’ in each faculty demonstrates how institutions can systematically seed innovation while maintaining a connection to disciplinary expertise.
Another speaker observed that successful change requires ‘recognising the challenges and concerns of academic colleagues, bringing them together, supporting colleagues in making the changes they want.’ At Maynooth University, incentives for staff, such as fellowships and promotion pathway changes, rather than mandates, draws on the notion that ‘you can’t herd cats but you can move their food’.
Cross-institutional collaboration
The forum emphasised that institutional change cannot happen in isolation. The complexity of stakeholder groups – from faculty leads to central teams to students and student-facing services – requires sophisticated engagement strategies. As one participant noted about successful technology implementation: ‘Pilots don’t work if they are isolated with one stakeholder group. You need buy-in from all the groups.’
The call for sector-wide collaboration extends beyond individual institutions to include professional bodies, regulatory frameworks and quality assurance processes – QA must also keep up with the pace of change. PSRBs, in particular, were singled out as a blocker to change.
International networking is also important. For example, UCL is working with Digital Intelligence International Development Education Alliance (DI-IDEA) from Peking University, which is experimenting with AI in education in innovative and accelerated ways.
Building sustainable change
Perhaps most importantly, the forum recognised that sustainable institutional change requires long-term commitment and resource allocation, and this imperative could arguably not have come at a more difficult time for many HE institutions. The observation that ‘There’s never been a greater need and appetite from staff to engage with this at a time when resourcing in the sector is a real problem’ highlights the tension between ambition and capacity that many institutions face.
However, the success stories shared – such as Birmingham City University’s Cadmus implementation saving 735.2 hours of academic staff time while improving student outcomes – demonstrate that institutional change, while challenging, can deliver measurable benefits for both educators and learners when implemented thoughtfully and systematically.
Three recommended actions from the forum
1. Address systemic inequalities, not just assessment design
Research from the University of Manchester shared at the conference showed that 95% of differential attainment stems from factors beyond assessment itself – cultural awareness, digital poverty, caring responsibilities and lack of representation.
Action: Take a holistic approach to student success that addresses the whole student experience, implements universal design principles, and recognises that some students are ‘rolling loaded dice’ in the academic game of privilege. Don’t assume assessment reform alone will solve equity issues.
2. Reduce high-stakes assessment
Traditional exam-heavy models risk perpetuating inequalities and don’t reflect workplace realities. Multiple lower-stakes assessments can support deeper learning and may be more equitable.
Action: Systematically reduce reliance on high-stakes exams in favour of diverse and more authentic assessment methods. This helps to address both AI challenges and equity concerns while better preparing students for their futures.
3.Co-create with students as partners
Students are driving the pace of change – they are already using AI. They need to be partners in designing solutions, not just recipients of policies.
Action: Involve students in co-designing assessments, rubrics and AI policies. Create bi-directional dialogue about learning experiences and empower students to share learning strategies. Build trust through transparency and genuine partnership.
Jim Ryan’s decision last month to step down as president of the University of Virginia in the face of pressure from the Trump administration drew renewed attention to the political appointees steering the public institution who will pick the next campus leader.
Multiple onlookers blamed Ryan’s resignation at least partly on the university’s Board of Visitors, which has been dramatically reshaped over the last three-plus years by Republican governor Glenn Youngkin’s appointments. Since taking office in 2022, Youngkin has stocked the board with former GOP lawmakers, Republican donors and members of the Jefferson Council, a conservative alumni group that called for Ryan’s ouster.
But UVA’s board isn’t the only one that has seen a dramatic overhaul. An Inside Higher Ed analysis shows that boards at public institutions across the state are heavy with GOP donors, former lawmakers and Trump officials, and members with ties to conservative think tanks. Tensions between conservative boards and faculty have prompted two recent no confidence votes and concerns over whether members who are ideologically aligned with Trump will protect universities in the administration’s crosshairs.
Now, a battle is brewing over who gets to serve on Virginia’s governing boards at a pivotal moment for higher education in the commonwealth.
A Battle Over Appointments
When Youngkin took office, he quickly focused on education-related issues, banning so-called “divisive concepts” in K-12 classrooms and purging “equity” from the state education system.
While the Democrat-controlled General Assembly has blocked some of Youngkin’s other efforts to overhaul education, he’s wielded board appointments as a tool to reshape higher education across Virginia, largely bypassing state lawmakers. His appointees have since pushed out university leaders, eliminated diversity, equity and inclusion programs, and taken aim at faculty members for teaching on topics such as race and gender.
Democrats in the General Assembly signed off on most of the appointments, even the controversial ones. But the Democrats started pushing back this year.
In January, the Democrats rejected former Trump officials Kenneth Marcus and Marc Short along with four other appointees—a move Youngkin blasted as “petty.” Later, they turned down former Virginia attorney general Ken Cuccinelli (who Youngkin appointed to the UVA board in March to replace Bert Ellis, who the governor removed due to his volatile conduct) and seven others.
Democrats argued that the appointees were “poor choices.”
“Historically, the governance of higher education in Virginia has not been nearly this political,” State senator and Democratic majority leader Scott Surovell told Inside Higher Ed.
Surovell said Democrats grew concerned by the actions of Youngkin’s appointees as they gained a majority on the university boards. For example, Virginia Military Institute declined to renew the contract of superintendent Cedric Wins, the first Black leader in VMI history. Wins, a VMI graduate, faced frequent criticism from alumni over diversity, equity and inclusion efforts that were introduced following allegations of a racist and sexist environment at the military school.
But when the Democrats on the Senate Privileges and Elections Committee rejected eight nominations for public university boards in a special session last month, the Youngkin administration refused to accept that outcome. The governor’s office has argued that those nominees need to be voted on by the full Senate and can continue to serve in the meanwhile.
Democrats then sued board representatives of George Mason University, Virginia Military Institute and UVA. The nine state senators who brought the lawsuit alleged that Youngkin “refused to recognize the rejection of those appointments by a coequal branch of government, in open defiance of the Constitution of Virginia and 50 years of tradition in the Commonwealth.” Plaintiffs asked the court to block appointees from serving on those boards.
A hearing in the case is scheduled for Friday.
Virginia Education Secretary Aimee Rogstad Guidera accused state Democrats of gamesmanship in a statement shared with Inside Higher Ed and argued that rejecting the recent slate of Youngkin’s board appointees could undermine the governance of public institutions.
“One of the strengths of the Virginia Higher Education system is the quality of citizens who choose to take time away from personal and professional endeavors to serve the Commonwealth as Visitors to our colleges,” she wrote. “The baseless attacks by Senate Democrats on these good peoples’ reputations may deter future leaders’ willingness to serve.”
And Youngkin’s office bristled at the notion that the governor has stocked the board with Republican donors and conservative political figures, arguing all appointees are highly qualified.
“The premise of your question is absurd—to diminish Governor Youngkin’s imminently qualified higher education board appointees as mere partisans is an insult to the citizens who willingly put in the time and effort to voluntarily serve our Commonwealth,” Press Secretary Peter Finocchio wrote in an emailed statement to Inside Higher Ed. “Governor Youngkin is proud to have appointed individuals who are distinguished alumni of our universities, respected business executives, and integral community leaders who have demonstrated experience overseeing complex budgets, running large organizations, and implementing long-term strategies.”
Concerns at GMU
Among Virginia’s public institutions, GMU’s board has likely attracted the most attention for its picks, which includes 10 former Republican officials, current and former Heritage Foundation employees—which had included Project 2025 co-author Lindsey Burke, who recently stepped down to join the Department of Education—and others with ties to conservative groups.
Although Youngkin’s appointees have featured multiple political firebrands, the appointment of donors is common. Ralph Northam, the Democratic governor who preceded Youngkin, appointed multiple Democratic mega donors who contributed to him. Northam’s appointees to the GMU board included six former Democratic officials. Two other Northam appointees served as legislative aides to Republicans earlier in their careers. (Governors, regardless of political affiliation, frequently appoint donors, though political activists are less common. One notable exception is Florida governor Ron DeSantis, a Republican, who has regularly appointed conservative activists and GOP political figures to university boards in recent years.)
Now, many professors question whether the board will meet the moment as GMU faces four investigations from the federal government spanning admissions and scholarship practices, alleged discrimination in hiring decisions, and claims the university has not adequately addressed antisemitism. Given the numerous connections between the Trump administration and George Mason’s Board of Visitors, some faculty members believe that the university is facing a series of coordinated attacks designed to oust GMU President Gregory Washington.
George Mason University President Gregory Washington.
Bill O’Leary/The Washington Post via Getty Images
“I think when you peel back the connections of all of these individuals, it’s hard to imagine that this is not orchestrated or coordinated,” said Bethany Letiecq, chair of GMU’s chapter of the American Association of University Professors, which passed a no confidence vote in the board Monday.
The AAUP chapter expressed support for Washington and condemned the board for “fail[ing] to support President Washington and George Mason University during this period of unprecedented and increasing federal scrutiny and political targeting,” according to a copy of the resolution.
GMU faculty senate chair Solon Simmons, who also serves as the faculty representative on the Board of Visitors, believes “this is a coercive action by the federal government” and that Mason is caught up “in a larger ideological agenda.” But Simmons is less critical of his fellow members.
Simmons said he hasn’t seen “bad faith actions from the board members,” in that they haven’t tried to micromanage faculty tenure cases or dictate what should be in the university curriculum, though he added they have raised concerns about what they believe shouldn’t be included. He also suggested that “they’re enacting their values and sometimes they’re enacting their biases.”
But he added that, in a purple state that has long been trending blue, the board seems politicized.
“They’ve been professional, but they bring a much more conservative point of view than you’d think would be typical of a swing state where you’re appealing to the median taxpayer,” Simmons said.
Letiecq, however, argues the board is packed with extremists who have targeted faculty members. One member, Sarah Parshall Perry, works for the conservative group Defending Education, which posted the syllabus for one of her classes online last year as an example of “indoctrination.” The organization took aim at the graduate level course titled “Critical Praxis in Education” because it included topics such as “white supremacy, family privilege, intersectionality, and gender affirming policies.” Following that post and coverage from conservative media about her research, Letiecq said she has received two death threats.
“Tell me how faculty can feel safe, not just to exercise their academic freedom, but safe in their personhood, when you have extremist board members siccing their organizations on us,” Letiecq said.
George Mason officials did not respond to a request for comment from Inside Higher Ed. However, the board has offered some limited statements about the federal investigations, committing to respond to the government’s request and noting its fiduciary obligation to ensure the university continues to thrive.
Fallout at UVA
Meanwhile, at UVA, questions are swirling in the aftermath of Ryan’s resignation, including what the board knew and what role it played. Answers, however, are in short supply.
Former University of Virginia President Jim Ryan.
Mike Kropf-Pool/Getty Images
After Ryan said he would resign, UVA’s faculty senate voted no confidence in the Board of Visitors, alleging they failed to protect “the university and its president from outside interference.” Faculty also accused the BOV of failing to engage the faculty senate in a “time of crisis” and demanded “a full accounting of the specific series of events, and actions taken by the board” that led to Ryan’s resignation.
Initially, the faculty senate intended just to censure the board. That escalated when board members refused to commit to “protecting the selection of the interim president and the [next] president of the university from outside influence,” said faculty senate chair Jeri Seidman. They also declined to share additional details with faculty about Ryan’s resignation.
Of the 17 appointed board members listed on UVA’s website, all have donated to Republican candidates and causes. Of those members, 11 have donated to Youngkin, including several who contributed hundreds of thousands of dollars to his gubernatorial campaign and associated political action committee. Other members also have Republican ties, such as Cuccinelli.
(Northam appointed multiple Democratic mega donors who contributed to him. He also appointed three former Democratic lawmakers to UVA’s board.)
And it’s not just faculty members pressing the board for more transparency. UVA’s board also reportedly ignored requests from 12 deans who asked to meet, noting the palpable concerns of students, faculty and staff, alumni, and other community members. The deans wrote that some donors are withholding pledges and new hires are reconsidering plans to work at UVA.
Seidman said the board has “not been terribly responsive to us,” though she noted legal issues have hampered its ability to meet. Given the legal question over whether Cuccinneli is a board member or not, she said the board could risk lawsuits by including or excluding him from meetings.
UVA officials did not respond to a request for comment.
Vacancy at VMI
At VMI, the Board of Visitors that declined to renew Wins’s contract includes major GOP donors.
Former board president Thomas Gottwald, whose term ended in June, donated $130,000 to Youngkin’s Spirit of Virginia PAC and $77,500 to his gubernatorial campaign. Other members include former Trump official, Kate Todd; former Youngkin adviser, Meaghan Mobbs; two former lawmakers—William Janis and Scott Lingamfelter, both Republicans–and failed GOP political candidate Ernesto Sampson.
(Northam, a VMI graduate, also appointed multiple members who contributed to his campaign.)
Former Virginia Military Institute Superintendent Cedric Wins.
Justin Ide/for The Washington Post via Getty Images
Although the rejection of Wins came immediately after a new swath of appointments, Board President James Inman (a minor Youngkin donor) denied they were given direction by the governor and emphasized members are committed to acting in the best interest of VMI.
“Members of the board recognize their responsibility to work across party lines with the governor, the administration, and the General Assembly to advance the critical mission and vision of the Institute. The VMI BOV has received no directives—binding or otherwise—from Governor Youngkin,” Inman wrote in an emailed statement shared by the university.
Other Appointments
Youngkin has made notable appointments at university boards across Virginia.
Some are national conservative figures such as Carly Fiorina who ran for president as a Republican in 2016 and was appointed to the James Madison University Board by Youngkin in 2023. Fiorina is joined on the JMU board by former Heritage Foundation and Trump Administration staffer Kay Coles James; David Rexrode, former executive director of the Republican Party of Virginia; and other appointees with direct ties to Youngkin or the GOP.
At Old Dominion University, Youngkin appointed Susan Allen, the wife of former Republican senator and Virginia governor George Allen. He also named Stanley Goldfarb to the board, a former University of Pennsylvania medical school dean and national advocate against gender-affirming care. However, Goldfarb was one of the rare Democratic rejections before this summer, which he claimed was because he had questions about the medical school curriculum.
Similar appointments dot multiple boards across the state.
Surovell said now that the partisan composition of Virginia boards has become clear, Democrats are vowing to take up reforms in the next legislative session. Likely reforms include changing the terms of board members so that no one governor can reshape an institution through such appointments over one term. He would also like to see board members wait to take their seats until they’ve been confirmed by the General Assembly. Currently, appointees may join boards after being named by the governor and while awaiting confirmation.
Surovell also thinks Democrats need to hold off on appointments until such reforms are in place.
“The governor has exposed some real weaknesses in our current system of higher educational governance, and we’re going to come back in January, and we’re going to reform the process,” Surovell said.
Why do students run out of money? And is it their mistake?
It’s partly because student maintenance support has not kept pace with the cost of living.
Last year, the Centre for Research in Social Policy (CRSP) at Loughborough University calculated that students need £18,632 a year outside London (and £21,774 a year in London) to have a minimum acceptable standard of living.
But if you’re living away from home in England, the maximum maintenance loan is £10,227 – and it’s less than that once your parents earn over £25,000.
And if you’re an international student, the Home Office’s “proof of funds” figure – the money you need to show you have in the bank to cover your living costs – has been (un)helpfully aligned to that inadequate figure.
In that scenario, you’d need help with budgeting – especially if you’ve never lived away from home before, if you’ve not participated in higher education before, or if you’ve never lived in the UK before.
You’d want to know, for example, how much a TV license costs. The good news is that your chosen university has a guide to student living costs, and it lists the license as costing £159 per year.
The problem? £159 was the 2021 rate – a TV licence now costs £174.50. Still, one little mistake like that isn’t going to break the bank, surely?
Delay repay
Over the pastfewyears I’ve whiled away some of my train delays surfing around university websites looking at what the sector says about student cost of living.
I’ve found marketing boasts dressed up as money advice, sample student budgets that feature decades old estimates, and reassuringly precise figures that turn out to be thumbs in the air from the ambassadors in the office.
Often, I find webpages that say things like this:
The problem is that the “fact” turns out to be from 2023, the source on the “lowest rents” claim turns out to be “not yet reliable”, and the “one of the cheapest pints in the country” claim has its source this story in the Independent. From 2019.
That’s also a webpage that says you can get a bus to the seaside and back for £4.30 (it’s currently £12), a ferry to Bruges for £50 (the route was withdrawn in 2020), and a train to London for “for just over a tenner” – when even with a railcard, the lowest fare you’ll find is £22.66.
Campus gym prices are listed as less than £20 a month (it’s actually from £22.95 for students), rent for a one-bed city flat is listed as £572 (the source actually says £623.57), and you’re even told that you can head to a “legendary” local nightclub to “down a double” for £1.90.
Sadly, even Spiders Nightclub is having to cover “the increasing cost of basic overheads” and “the ongoing inflationary cost of purchasing stock”. The current price is £2.50.
Those were the days
Sometimes, I find tables like this – where the costs listed appear to be exactly the same as when the webpage was updated in 2022.
HERTS 1
Actually, that’s not quite true. Someone has bothered to update the lower rent estimate up to £500 a month since then – leaving all of the other figures unchanged.
Archive.org allows me to see all sorts of moments when someone, somewhere, has performed an update. Of sorts.
Here’s one where food and rent have gone up, but everything else is as it was in 2022. The main difference is that the “Yearly costs for students” lines in the table have been deleted – presumably because they would stretch credibility.
Not every university has a run at listing costs. Many (over 30 at the time of typing) refer their readers to the Which? Student Budget Calculator.
The Which? Student budget calculator was deleted in 2022 – and even when it was live, its underpinning figures were last updated in 2019.
Sometimes the google search takes you to undated slide decks and PDFs. This metadata suggests that this one is from 2023 – although the figures in it look suspiciously similar to the numbers in the UG prospectus in 2015.
To be fair, that’s a university that has at least got an updated chart showing sample costs in its international arrival guide – with a reassuring note that average costs are correct as of March. You’d perhaps be less reassured to find that those average costs – other than the cost of (university) accommodation – have remained exactly as they were since last year.
Sometimes, a picture is painted of painstaking research carried out by dedicated money advisors. Here’s a table that says the minimum costs have been estimated by the university’s support teams:
How lucky students in that city are, given that the only things that have increased over the past year are accommodation and rent:
Actually, tell a lie. Many of the costs seem to be identical to those in 2020:
Save us from your information
Lost of the sample budgets and costs are unsourced – but not all of them. A large number quote figures from Save the Student’s student money survey – which last year used responses from 1,010 university students in the UK to calculate the results.
Even if that was a dataset that could be relied upon at provider or city level, that was a survey that found 67 per cent of students skipping meals to save money, 1 in 10 using food banks and 60 per cent with money related mental health problems. Not a great basis on which to budget, that.
Others quote their costs from the NatWest Student Living Index – which for reasons I’ve explained in 2024, 2023 and 2022, isn’t an approach that I think comes close to being morally sound.
Plenty of universities don’t list costs at all, but imply to international students that the “proof of funds” figure has been calculated by Home Office officials as enough to live on:
It has, of course, just been copied across from DfE’s maximum maintenance loan – a figure widely believed to be wholly inadequate as an estimate of living costs for students.
Sometimes you find things like this, a set of costs “based on feedback from our current international undergraduate and master’s students”. Someone has gone in and updated the costs for university halls – but hasn’t updated anything else, and nor have they updated the estimate for total monthly living expenses:
Sometimes you find things like this – costs that haven’t changed in two years contained in an official looking document called “Student Regulations and Policies: Standard Additional Costs”:
And sometimes you find miracles. Here’s a university where most of the costs haven’t increased in 18 months, and the cost of clothing has fallen dramatically – despite ONS calculating that clothing inflation is currently 5.9 per cent.
Then there’s charts like this that are “subject to change” – although no change since last summer:
Or unsourced tables like this, where somehow student costs have started to fall. I want to move there!
2024. Here’s 2025:
The long arm
The good news for prospective students – and the bad news for universities – is that this is all now going to have to change.
Looking at all of this through the lens of the new Digital Markets, Competition and Consumers (DMCC) Act, it’s hard to avoid the conclusion that universities have been sailing remarkably close to the wind – and that the wind direction has now changed dramatically.
Under DMCC, the systematic provision of outdated cost-of-living information would likely constitute a serious breach of consumer protection law. The Act makes it automatically unfair to omit material information from invitations to purchase – and there’s little doubt that accurate living costs are material information for prospective students making decisions about whether and where to study.
Crucially, there’s no longer any need to prove that students were actually misled by the information, or that it influenced their decision-making. The omission itself is the problem.
The legal framework has fundamentally shifted in universities’ disfavour. The scope of what counts as material information has expanded beyond those categories defined by EU obligations, while misleading actions are no longer restricted to predefined “features” of a product or service.
Instead, any information relevant to a student’s decision can now trigger a breach – meaning universities can no longer rely on narrow, checklist-based approaches to compliance. Outdated transport costs, inflated claims about local entertainment prices, or misleading accommodation estimates all fall squarely within this expanded scope, even though they might previously have been considered peripheral to the core “product” of education.
The Act has also lowered the threshold for proving breaches of professional diligence. Previously, universities might have argued that minor cost discrepancies didn’t cause “material distortion” of student decision-making. Now, practices need only be “likely to cause” a different decision – shifting the focus from proving impact to ensuring accurate practice from the outset.
The Act explicitly recognises that certain groups of consumers are particularly vulnerable, and that practices which might not affect others can cause disproportionate harm to those groups.
International students – who rely heavily on university cost estimates for visa applications and have limited ability to verify information independently – are a textbook example of vulnerable consumers. So too are first-generation university students, those from lower-income families, and young people making major financial commitments for the first time. The Act requires universities to proactively identify and mitigate risks to these vulnerable groups as part of their duty of care.
The Competition and Markets Authority now has significant new enforcement powers, including the ability to impose civil penalties of up to 10 per cent of an organisation’s turnover and to hold corporate officers personally liable where they have consented to or negligently allowed breaches to occur.
Given the sector-wide nature of these problems, and the ease with which accurate cost information could be obtained and maintained, it would be difficult for universities to argue that continued reliance on years-old estimates meets the standard of professional diligence now required by law.
The sector has had years to get this right voluntarily. With enhanced legal obligations, fundamentally expanded definitions of what constitutes actionable information, lowered thresholds for proving breaches, and much sharper enforcement teeth now imminent, universities that continue to present outdated or inaccurate living costs as current information may find that their casual approach to accuracy has become a rather expensive mistake. Their mistake.
The first Nobel Prize–winning scientist to join a White House cabinet, Steven Chu made history when he became Barack Obama’s energy secretary in 2009. But his move to Washington cost him an incredible $300 million.
“I joined the Nvidia board in 2004, before the company took off, but I had to sell my shares in 2009 when I joined government,” Chu said about his early involvement in the microchip firm that recently became the world’s most valuable company with a $4 trillion capitalization.
“At the time Nvidia was a small graphics company, but there were rules about conflict of interest so I had to sell,” he told Times Higher Education. With Nvidia’s stock rising 22,000 percent in the past decade alone, Chu’s stake would be worth $300 million, he said.
Nvidia’s astonishing rise has amazed the stock market in recent years, but Chu, who won the Nobel Prize in physics in 1997, felt the company had huge promise when he joined.
“When Jenson Huang [Nvidia’s founder] told me about developing this high-level chip, I said, ‘If you do that, this computer will be at the heart of every supercomputer in the world.’ And he did it,” recalled Chu.
Sanguine about his lost wealth, Chu’s main takeaway from Nvidia is not his own misfortune. Instead, he worries that this American success story—co-created by a Taiwanese-born Stanford graduate, employing foreign-born engineering talent—might not have been able to happen today given the double whammy faced by U.S. academia: massive cuts to federal science budgets and an immigration crackdown deterring many students, particularly from China, from applying to U.S. institutions.
“Trump wants to cut science budgets by half or more and reduce the number of foreign postdocs—particularly from China,” explained Chu, speaking earlier this month at the annual Lindau Nobel Laureate Meeting in southern Germany.
“That’s a problem because if you go to any major research university, you’ll find about a third of researchers are East Asian.”
Chu’s own parents—born and educated in China before moving to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in the 1940s—are a good example of how this brain gain has worked in America’s favor. “When the Communists took over, they couldn’t go back, but this is how America got many of its best scientists and engineers—as refugees from Germany, Italy and China.”
“That’s true for business, too—many of America’s captains of industry, from Jenson Huang to [ex-Intel boss] Andy Grove and Alexander Graham Bell, were immigrants,” he said.
Reflecting on how America “didn’t become a scientific superpower until World War II,” Chu said he believes the 1930s are instructive in other ways. “In this era America took what was innovative and applied it to industry. That allowed places like Ford to take what Volkswagen and Peugeot was doing but do it cheaper, but good enough to work,” he said.
“That is what China is doing to America now—for instance, taking the electric car and making it cheaper and now better. What we did to Europe, China and now Korea are doing to us,” he said.
Traditionally, the U.S. has been able to stay ahead thanks to its education system, in particular its generously funded world-leading research universities. With that system under attack, however, that advantage is weaker, he said. “Something magical happens at Ph.D. level in U.S. universities—we teach creativity. China is trying to learn this … and then apply it to their industrial sector. When they do, they will blow us away.”
Without America’s outstanding universities and with its foreign talent pool diminished, China’s path to global dominance will be immeasurably easier, predicted Chu. “Trump is perfectly willing to destroy institutions that any country in the world would give its eyeteeth for,” he said.
Unusually for a Nobel laureate, Chu’s prize did not mark the peak of his scientific achievements. He led a committee that recommended the creation of ARPA-E, a science agency that has funded more than $4 billion in battery, nanotech and other types of energy research since 2009, generating spin-out companies worth more than $22 billion.
Meanwhile, his time as energy secretary saw further investment, including the funding of an experimental $1 billion carbon-capture plant in Louisiana—a stark contrast to the “drill, baby, drill” priorities of the current administration. Obama also credited his expertise as a major reason why the cleanup after the Deepwater Horizon disaster in 2010—the biggest oil spill in history—was successful.
And there are his brushes with some of the 21st century’s biggest tech companies, even if Nvidia wasn’t the only big fish he missed out on. “I knew [financier] Richard Blum, who said he could get me on the board of Apple— I didn’t say yes because I had a lot of nonprofit activities, but that was 2006, the year before the iPhone was launched,” he reflected.
Not that he thinks the money would have made much difference. “If I was worth a couple of hundred million dollars, would I have stopped doing science and just bought sports cars and houses? I hope not.”
In a paradoxical bid to “make America great again,” President Trump and congressional Republicans are pushing to restrict international research collaboration in U.S. higher education. The Department of Education is investigating Harvard University; the University of California, Berkeley; and the University of Pennsylvania for potential violations of the Higher Education Act, which requires universities to report foreign gifts and contracts valued at $250,000 or more.
At a time when the global race to develop cutting-edge technologies is accelerating, the U.S. should be expanding—not constraining—its international research partnerships.
Federal demands for foreign gift reporting kicked off in 1986, after Georgetown University received donations from Arab governments to establish its Center for Contemporary Arab Studies. Policymakers worried about potential strings attached, such as influence over curricula and threats to free speech, resulting in legislation requiring universities to disclose foreign funding. Over time, however, compliance waned, and successive administrations allowed the law to fall into disuse.
That changed in 2019, when the Trump administration revived enforcement and began investigating universities for noncompliance, uncovering billions of dollars in unreported funding. The concern then, as now, was that a lack of transparency threatened academic independence and posed national security risks.
It is understandable to want to know if foreign governments are influencing American institutions. But is there good reason to think current rules are effective, or that stricter ones would be?
There is little evidence that decades of lax enforcement have led to significant harm. The Trump administration’s China Initiative, for example, sought to root out espionage in academia but instead cast a wide, indiscriminate net, leading to criminal charges against professors like Feng Tao, Anming Hu and Gang Chen based on questionable allegations. In each case, charges were ultimately dropped or the scientists were acquitted, but not before reputations were damaged and careers derailed. Of the 162 cases prosecuted by the Department of Justice under the China Initiative, only about 20 involved university researchers, and at least nine of these cases ended in dismissed charges or acquittals. The initiative illustrates how geopolitical anxiety can erode academic freedom and damage innocent collaborations for little gain.
Both the previous and current Trump administrations have scrutinized universities’ research, including on dual-use technologies such as artificial intelligence, robotics systems and laser technology, arguing that they can be used to advance foreign governments’ (particularly China’s) military objectives. But politicians too often fail to acknowledge that most applications in these fields are nonmilitary, including autonomous vacuum cleaners, industrial robots and self-driving cars. Autonomous systems have been a long-standing area of global research, much of it geared toward civilian innovation. Moreover, federal agencies, including the Department of Defense, have implicitly supported this research through funding.
While reporting can be onerous, requiring universities to obtain federal waivers to collaborate with researchers from “foreign countries of concern” is more intrusive. So too are possibly biased social media screening of foreign students and travel bans that prevent entire populations from engaging with U.S. institutions. These policies move beyond transparency into gatekeeping, forcing universities to seek permission before working with researchers from countries like China, home to more than 1.4 billion people and a global leader in scientific research. Past historical lessons on how political tensions have been allowed to erode academic freedom do not need to be relearned.
Although the U.S. Department of Education claimed to improve the process for foreign gift reporting with a new portal in the first Trump administration, it increased the amount of information for colleges to report. The reporting process, while intended to enhance transparency, imposes bureaucratic costs on institutions.
Preserving open academic environments, where innovation can thrive, is not a liability, but a strategic advantage. Still, precautions should be taken. Sensitive research should be classified by the federal government. Companies partnering with universities should set clear terms about who can access proprietary projects. People who violate classification rules or contract terms should face consequences. But the default should be freedom, not prohibition.
To keep America great, it is essential to preserve the openness and intellectual freedom that define U.S. higher education and make it the best postsecondary system in the world, at least as indicated by its dominance of international rankings, share of Nobel laureates and attractiveness to international students. Open academic environments encourage innovation, foster critical thinking and enable researchers to explore cutting-edge fields—including those vital to national competitiveness.
If the U.S. is to maintain its position as a global leader in research, it must champion academic freedom, not restrict it.
Neal McCluskey is the director of the Center for Educational Freedom at the Cato Institute, where Kayla Susalla is a research associate.
In the shifting terrain of higher education, the figure of the “pracademic” has become increasingly prominent.
Straddling the worlds of theory and practice, pracademics bring external insight into the academy along with a restlessness about how knowledge is produced, shared, and valued.
They offer universities the opportunity to widen their epistemic horizons, but in doing so, they expose the inherent tensions in how academic leadership is defined and performed.
The rise of the pracademic
Pracademics rarely fit the established leadership templates; instead, they model heterodox approaches, navigating ambiguity, drawing from diverse methodologies, and unsettling conventional hierarchies. Arguably, this is not an accidental disruption, but a generative one. Pracademics challenge the orthodoxy of university life, and in doing so, they invite us to rethink the paradoxes that shape leadership in higher education.
As institutions seek to embrace diversity and interdisciplinarity, many still struggle to accommodate those whose career paths have not followed the traditional orthodox academic trajectory.
For second-career academics and pracademics, leadership can feel like swimming against the tide. Their experience and outlook can enrich higher education, but too often their value is under-recognised and under-leveraged. To lead in a heterodox community of contradictions, we must not only tolerate difference but structure our systems to nurture and embed it.
This leads to the question: are today’s universities ready for leaders who do not fit the mould? As Jill Dickinson and colleagues noted in a Wonkhe article, some academics are seen as more proper than others.
Not fitting the mould
University ecosystems are not tidy places. They are heterodox ecosystems populated by the idiosyncratic, the idealistic, the quietly radical, the wildly inconsistent. This is perhaps their greatest strength, but also perhaps their greatest challenge.
For those of us asked to lead within these environments, the traditional managerial playbook may not suffice. Our colleagues are not staff in the conventional sense. They are academics and professionals, each with their own epistemologies, rhythms, and values.
It may be tempting to assume there are defined academic personalities. A shorthand often emerges: the aloof theorist, the star researcher, the endlessly enthusiastic educator. But these caricatures are too narrow. In reality, we work alongside colleagues who are motivated by very different things. Autonomy, impact, status, security, social justice, or simply the deep and personal satisfaction of learning. Some are collaborative; others prefer to work in isolation. Some want to change the world; others just want to understand it. To lead effectively in this landscape is not to standardise, but to navigate. Thoughtfully, deliberately, and with care.
Increasingly we share this space with those whose paths into academia were far from linear. As a self-identified pracademic, I followed that linear progression, culminating in a PhD in entrepreneurship in my mid twenties before taking a right turn and transitioning into a career in industry and consultancy. Re-entering the academy many years later, I found myself in an environment which confused, frustrated and excited in equal measure. A world that both welcomed and resisted difference. As a pracademic I sought to blend my experience of industry with my academic credentials and apply this to teaching and scholarship. I thought this would be a straightforward career move, but it has been less than easy. I am not alone in this. I have several colleagues who have travelled similar paths. This is not a new phenomenon, and is highlighted in a previous Wonkhe article by Jacqueline Baxter.
Where do pracademics fit?
The academy is not against us; it simply does not yet know how to include us. And at times, we are not sure how to include ourselves. Recruitment, induction and promotion systems often presume conventional trajectories and narrow definitions of success. CVs weighted towards delivery, leadership and impact can sit awkwardly alongside expectations for peer-reviewed outputs and theoretical depth.
The result is unease.
Heterodox colleagues from non-traditional backgrounds are welcomed for their distinctiveness but expected to assimilate. Over time, they become weary; their fresh perspective blunted by institutional habits. And so we risk losing them. Or worse, we fail to attract pracademics in the first place.
This would represent not only a loss of individual talent, but arguably it is a structural failure to evolve. In an era that prizes engagement, interdisciplinarity and real-world relevance, universities cannot afford to cling to a single model of academic identity. Heterodox colleagues are not silver bullets, but they are essential to the richness and resilience of the sector.
The compliance trap
Despite the diversity of perspectives and epistemologies, our systems often reward sameness; uniformity in careers, outputs and leadership behaviours. Interdisciplinarity is celebrated rhetorically but stifled procedurally. Innovation is encouraged but only when it conforms to measurable outcomes. Leadership frameworks borrowed from corporate life bring useful tools, but they are not neutral.
These models often fail to accommodate heterodox approaches, undervaluing forms of leadership that thrive on difference, improvisation, and autonomy. Performance metrics and standardised objectives often marginalise the creative, the hybrid and the experimental.
If we value diversity and heterodoxy, we must accept that excellence takes many forms: some measurable, others intuitive; some harmonious, others deliberately disruptive. We need frameworks that flex, processes that adapt, and cultures that embrace the very contradictions they generate.
Herein lies the paradox: universities demand diversity to survive, yet they reward conformity to preserve reputation. They seek innovation but measure it through established norms. This tension is not a flaw, rather it is the condition of the heterodox university. The question is whether our leadership structures are capable of holding that contradiction.
This reflects the recent call for a new leadership framework in HE, to address the shifting landscape, the advancements in technology, social and regulatory change. Leadership “is now a crucial component in the higher education sector’s efforts to successfully navigate current challenges”.
Leading with empathy
So what might leadership look like in this context? It means creating the conditions in which individuals can flourish. It is stewardship not control. It involves being comfortable with ambiguity and openness to challenge. It involves intellectual empathy: understanding how colleagues think, not only what they do and recognising the inherent value in other academics. It is about creating the conditions in which others can flourish, even when their values or methods differ from our own.
University leadership can carry a heavy emotional load. The balance of advocacy with accountability; innovation with institutional demands; scholarship with scheduling. We were not trained for this; we stepped in because we care. We want to fix what frustrates us; to create space for ideas; to support people we believe in. Through listening we discover a form of leadership that builds a shared capacity and nurtures potential even in those who are manifestly different from ourselves.
Permission to lead differently
In spite of all the challenges, there is real opportunity. The best leaders I have worked with were not necessarily the most strategic or the most visible. They were the ones who listened well; who noticed when someone was struggling; who quietly, or even loudly, championed a good idea even when it wasn’t their own. They had the confidence to admit when they did not know the answer to something, and the humility to let others shine.
Leadership of this kind may be less celebrated in glossy strategy documents, but it is deeply generative.
We need, perhaps, to give ourselves permission to lead differently. To resist the false dichotomies. To stop trying to fix people and instead start asking what might enable them. To see conflict and contrast not as a threat, but as evidence of a living, thinking, thriving, modern institution. Above all, we must remind ourselves that leadership is not something done to others, it is something enacted with them.
This is not leadership as compliance. It is leadership as contribution. And it is time we gave ourselves permission to practise it.
